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Jul 2018
Monsoon morning glow, glinting off another dying ditch
Littering, barely twitching instrument of compact destruction.

Noticeably different, near juxtaposed against the back light.
Noticeably strained, a coming age relegated to natural composition

It's hard to hold, memory, fragile fleeting
Slipped from its hold so easily, another piece shattering as it falls.

Repetition breeding more empathy than I can continually malign.
Forceful premonitions, until the choice to deny is taken from me.
All my thoughts, premeditated, actions, all deliberate
The illusion of choice shattered before me, as I take up my ill gotten arms.

Bolster myself with courage I no longer deserve.

And I get scared about just having to wake up sometimes.
Dumb
Saint Audrey
Written by
Saint Audrey  Neither/I don't even know anymore
(Neither/I don't even know anymore)   
308
   Mark Tilford and arizona
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